


Spark

by ThereIsNoTragedyInThat



Series: A World Of Our Making [1]
Category: We Can Be Heroes (2020)
Genre: Awkward Marcus Moreno, Co-workers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Getting Together, Hangover, Insecurity, Love Confessions, M/M, Short & Sweet, Sweet Miracle Guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28991910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat/pseuds/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat
Summary: All Marcus wants to do is hand in his report and avoid Miracle at all costs.
Relationships: Miracle Guy/Marcus Moreno
Series: A World Of Our Making [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126760
Comments: 12
Kudos: 38





	Spark

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Palm Kiss

His head was pounding.

Marcus kept his gaze planted firmly on the grey, speckled linoleum floors of the hallway, the bright industrial lights above sending stabbing pain through his head. The files clutched in his hand were the only reason he’d bothered coming in, needing to hand off the report of the latest mission. Already he was calculating how quickly he could beg off sick and just how much sleep he could get before he needed to pick up Missy from his mother’s.

He was just about to turn the corner, contemplating how much of an idiot he was, when a familiar voice made him stop dead. Miracle was somewhere down the other hallway, speaking boisterously to somebody that probably had to do with PR and he was regretting every decision he had ever made…especially the one from last night.

In his grasp, the file crumpled under the sudden force of his clenched fist as he leaned heavily against the wall. His lips tingled as though to tease him with the phantom memory of Miracle’s mouth against his, his hands caressing his jaw after a few too many drinks. Stupid, inexplicably, ridiculously, embarrassingly stupid.

Marcus figured his only saving grace was that they hadn’t slept together and that there was absolutely no way, Miracle would broadcast their lapse in judgement, which was exactly what it was. Their rivalry was well known among the other heroes, their instant dislike infamous, but when they were in relative privacy and Miracle wasn’t hamming everything up the camera, he was good man, a loving father, a kindred spirit.

Which he really shouldn’t be thinking about at that moment.

Taking a deep breath and absently adjusting his glasses, he considered heading back to the printing room to replace the paper in his hand, only to dismiss the idea. He’d handed in far worse and his headache was centered in on the right side of his head, all the prompting he needed to get this over with quickly.

Choosing to keep his head down still, this time with the ruse of looking over the paper, he continued on his way. Miracle’s voice broke off the instant he turned the corner, very nearly making him grimace as he studiously ignored the others, even as bright boots slipped into his peripheral.

“Moreno!” It was official, one of his abilities must be chronic bad luck because that wasn’t a PR person, wasn’t someone he could nod at and move on, it was the very person he was supposed to be delivering his report to.

Looking up and forcing a pained smile, he met Taylor’s eyes, “Mr. Taylor, just who I was coming to see.”

He frowned and it took inhuman effort not to look at Miracle, who he could tell from the corner of his eye, was watching him closely, body shifting like he wanted to step right into his space, “Ah yes, you have those files for me?”

“Yes, sorry, they got a bit ruffed up,” he handed them over and watched as he flipped it open, eyes scanning it briefly. He always did that, ever since a certain someone delivered her entire weekly debrief in musical notes, on purpose of course, though she pretended otherwise.

There was a huff and before he could stop himself, Marcus glanced over at Miracle, who was looking at him with narrowed eyes, lips nearly pursed as though he were struggling to hold back whatever he wanted to say. Marcus offered a quick nod, hoping that would be the end of it, before turning his attention back to Taylor, “actually, I wanted to drop that off and head home, not feeling very well.”

Taylor was already nodding and shooing him off, “sure go on. I can’t even remember that last time you took a day off Moreno.”

“Thank you,” he offered before turning on his heel to head back the way he’d come, trying to ignore the hand that had deliberately brushed his as he walked past.

Somehow, if he was being perfectly honest, he wasn’t the least bit surprised when a strong hand suddenly gripped his shoulder, dragging him to a stop, before swinging him around, all done with absolutely impeccable control.

Standing in front of him was Miracle, his brows furrowed and eyes stormy, “what are you doing?”

He blinked, tried not to stare at his lips and hating the effort it took, “um…going home?”

Miracle shook his head, “no, why are you ignoring me?”

“I’m talking to you right now,” it was entirely possible, though he loathed to admit it, that Missy got her attitude from him. “I’m not ignoring you.”

His jaw clenched and Marcus felt the hand on his shoulder flex slightly, then Miracle was speaking quickly, his voice low and urgent, “listen, last night, that wasn’t how I wanted to do this.” Marcus stared at him uncomprehendingly, wondered if he’d possibly been concussed at some point and Miracle groaned. “I’m glad I kissed you even if that wasn’t how I wanted it to happen…I just wanted to make that clear.”

“Clear?”

“Yes,” he huffed. “Clear?”

Marcus was the smart one, not that Miracle was dumb by any means but right now he could practically feel the gears in his brain grinding to a halt at his words, trying desperately to make sense of them without adding fuel to the wisp of hope in his chest.

It must have shown on his face because Miracle’s expression faltered, only for a moment before he was letting go of his shoulder and gripping his hand instead. Those bright blue eyes, always so striking, were no longer meeting his, as he lifted their entwined hands.

“You’re tired, probably hungover, but I just need you to know,” he lifted their hands an extra inch and then Miracle was pressing his lips to his palm, the sudden heat of him, his breath, making his skin tingle and his own breath catch in his throat. “I want you to know, that I’m hoping, we can do it again.” Miracle finally lifted his eyes, this time with a steeliness in his gaze that was usually reserved for their enemies. “I just don’t want you pretending it didn’t happen, I don’t want to see you in the halls, pretending you don’t care.” Because we both know you do went unspoken in the following silence.

Marcus knew his mouth was open, his throat working as he swallowed, yet unable to drag any words out as another kiss was pressed firmly to his hand. Just like that, it was dropped, and Miracle turned and walked away, without a backward glance.

His headache was forgotten, replaced by something far more treacherous, a fluttering in his stomach, that echoed the same feeling from the night before. He was completely and utterly screwed.


End file.
